Good, Clean Murder (6 page)

She wiped the
plate dry. She had better get out of the house. She had no interest in
confusing her feelings for Isaac and Jake. Jane reached up to put the plate in
the cupboard and got an unfortunate whiff of her unwashed self. Laundry. And a
shower. She couldn’t go to her next client’s house, or anywhere for that
matter, like this.

From her spot
tucked in the corner of the recently remolded kitchen Jane listened to Marjory
on the phone. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. She just wanted to sneak out to
her car to grab her laundry while Marjory was distracted. From what she could
hear the conversation Marjory was having was complicated and heated. When Jane
thought she heard the door to the late lamented-Bob’s office close, she made
her break for the car.

She felt eyes on
the back of her neck as she popped open the Rabbit. She even turned around, but
every curtain was closed. Jane pulled her laundry basket out of the car. If she
wanted to be clean, it was now or never.

She lugged her
canvas bag of dirty clothes upstairs to the laundry room. The real problem was
going to be waiting for the clothes to get clean before she took a shower. She
shoved a small load in the machine, just enough for the day, and set the
machine to quick wash. Had her life really come to this? Skulking about in
someone else’s home trying to hide while she washed her clothes?

She had used her
own detergent in an effort to take as little as she could from the Crawfords
while she stayed at the house. She sat down on the parquet floor of the laundry
room and leaned against the wall. She stared at the rose-covered wallpaper
across from her while her laundry spun in the machine.

Jake was right. He
was sleeping off a hangover in the other room, but he was right. The Adlers did
have money. Money they would have been happy to spend on her if she had only
picked a real university and a real degree. They were even willing to help her
reach her goal of being a missionary, but like the washing machine, whose digital
timer ticked down with painful slowness, a four-year university education had
sounded like it would take forever. Why should she spend four years studying
econ and literature if all she wanted to do was spread the gospel to the lost?

Jane closed her eyes
and rested her face in her hands. “Oh, dear Lord, I am homeless and broke, and
I am afraid it was all for pride. Who am I to say that I know better than my
parents? Do you want me to call them? To quit all of this and go home?”

“Well, I don’t. If
you go home, who will wash these for me?” Jake dropped a pile of laundry next
to her with a thump. “Who knew I had so many filthy clothes? Who usually does
the laundry around here? I swear no one has touched my clothes since
Christmas.”

Jane lifted her
head. “Shouldn’t you be asleep still?”

“Can’t sleep.
Terribly depressed. Grief.”

She tried to read
sincerity into his words, but it was difficult. “Have you given yourself the
chance to grieve yet, Jake?”

Jake turned away.
He covered his face with his hand.

There was a sharp
knock at the door and Marjory stepped into the laundry room. “Jacob, leave her
alone. She has work to do.”

Jake straightened
up like he had had an electric shock. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And go find your
sister. She’s not answering any of my calls.”

Jake turned and
snapped his heels together. He saluted his aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t be a
brat. Get out of here.” She gave Jake an awkward pat on the shoulder as he
marched past.

She turned her
attention back to Jane. “You must forgive him. He’s not just young, but also
obnoxious. I really don’t know what your role here was while Pamela was alive,
but seeing as how Jake has hired you to be live-in staff, I have a job for
you.”

Jane stood up and
tried to straighten her clothes. “Yes?” Her schedule didn’t feel like it could
take another assignment, but it was better to listen first and discuss after.

“This afternoon I
have several men from the business coming over. I will need you to serve coffee
and…refreshments. I don’t care what, but I need you to be on hand to prepare,
serve, and clear.” 

Jane nodded, but
kept her tongue.

“They will be here
at two this afternoon.”

Jane cleared her
throat. “I can be here for that, however the kitchen is empty, as far as I can
tell. Will you be getting what we need or leaving me cash for that?”

Marjory let out a
heavy sigh. “That’s right. I noticed breakfast was slim today. I’ll leave an
envelope of cash. I won’t be having dinner here, but you will probably need to
get something to feed Jake as well. I doubt he knows how to feed himself.”

Jane nodded. The
words, ‘an envelope of cash’ were the best ones she had heard in a week.

Marjory looked at
her watch. “All right then, I’ll see you at two.” She turned to leave, but
paused with one hand on the door, “I know this is all very awkward, Jane, but
loss is like that. Things will get back to normal eventually.” Marjory pulled
the door shut behind her.

Jane slumped
against the wall. As soon as her clothes were out of the machine she was taking
a shower and leaving. The idea of skipping town with the envelope of cash
brought a brief smile to her face, but she wouldn’t. She’d slip away to the
library, spend some time in the Word, clean the home of her paying client, and
then do the shopping.

Things were
looking up.

Back in the
Crawford kitchen Jane finally felt refreshed. Clean clothes and a shower were
nothing to the hour she had spent in the library in prayer and meditation.
God’s words had soaked deeply into her heart and she felt strong. The Lord was
her tower and refuge, so she would never be truly homeless. His word was her
daily bread so she could never truly go hungry. Plus the other client she had
cleaned for this morning had left her a beginning of the month bonus. They had
never done that before.

She pulled a pan
of heat-and-rise dinner rolls out of the oven and replaced it with a pan of
miniature cinnamon rolls. She set the hot pan on the granite counter to cool.
In addition to the rolls, she was serving a veggie tray, cold cut platter,
broccoli and raisin salad, cinnamon rolls which were baking in the other oven,
fruit platter, cheese plate, baguette and brie, fresh hot coffee, and
unsweetened ice tea. The piles of food in the refrigerator did her heart good.
She had also stocked up on the basics for the Crawfords’ breakfasts, lunches,
and dinners. No one was going to go hungry while she was in charge of the
kitchen.

She half-expected
Jake to pop in while she arranged the food, but he didn’t. She carted the first
tray out to the library where Marjory was meeting with the business associates,
a twinge of disappointment nipping her heart.

She let herself
into the room as quietly as she could, her slippered feet whispering across the
polished hard wood floor. At a nod from Marjory, Jane walked to each of the three
businessmen with the tray held out in front of her.

The men were all
in suits with polished shoes. All but one looked old enough to be her father.
Considering they had some kind of important role in the Roly Burger corporation
they probably knew her father. She kept her eyes down. When she had made her
way around with the fruit and veggie tray, she exited.

She’d refill
coffees in about five minutes, offer the meat, bread, and cheese, and then
close with the sweet rolls. She was making it up as she went along, but no one
seemed to mind.

They barely
noticed her at all, in fact. Their discussion seemed heated, and their angry
voices carried down the hall. Not quite all the way to the kitchen, but as she
toted her emptier, lighter trays back she could still hear them speaking.

“This is what Bob
wanted.” The speaker’s deep voice was like a growl. He was the man who was
wearing wire-rim glasses, she was sure. A Mr. Vargas, who she had met at past
Roly Burger company picnics.

“But until the
investigation is over we shouldn’t make any changes.” Marjory didn’t sound
angry, but she was loud and forceful.

“If we shouldn’t
make any changes, then I say the plan that is already in effect needs to keep
going.” Jane didn’t recognize this voice so she assumed it was the man in a
green tie, someone she had never seen before.

“How can it keep
going if we haven’t begun? I blame the newspaper. I don’t know how they got
wind of Bob’s plans.” This was Vargas again.

“We can’t let some
reporter make business decisions for us.” Marjory’s sentence faded away as Jane
entered the kitchen.

She could see
their dilemma. Did they continue to shut down all of the local Roly Burgers the
way that Bob had planned and had been reported or did they wait, keep the status
quo, and let the new leader make his or her own decision?

And who would the
new leader be? Did Bob’s sister-in-law Marjory come into leadership now or did
his eldest son, Jake? For as long as Jane could remember Marjory had been a
social member of the company—at all of the picnics and openings, not running a
location of her own, or a member of the board. At one time Marjory’s deceased
husband had been a board member, but that was years ago.

Jane carried the
coffee carafe to the library door and waited. She didn’t want to walk into the
middle of an argument—but from the sounds of it, she would have to wait a long
time before they cooled down.

As before, she
tried not to eavesdrop but certain words grabbed her attention. Words like
“murder” and “motive” and “we’ll call our lawyers.” She lost track of who was
making the worst of the accusations, but Marjory had said “motive” in a shocked
kind of voice. And Vargas had said he’d be calling his lawyers. The fourth man
in the room, a man she remembered was called Walker or Waller…something like
that…was trying to calm the group down. At least that was what it sounded like
to Jane. When she heard him say “Peace, peace” for the third time she turned
the knob and slipped into the room.

Marjory was
standing, red-faced, staring at the man with the green tie. He was also
standing. He looked flustered, ashen-faced even. He was blubbering something.
It sounded like “but Bob, but Bob, but Bob,” over and over, the most literal
blubbering Jane had ever heard.

“Ahem.” Jane cleared
her throat into her fist.

Vargas stood up
with a violent thrust. “I
will
be calling my lawyers.” He shoved his way
past Jane and left.

The blubbering man
turned and watched Vargas leave. “What does it mean?” He almost wailed as he
spoke.

“It
means
that
we all need to contact our lawyers.” Walker—or Waller—stood up as well. He
nodded at Marjory and moved to the door, not seeming to notice Jane and her
carafe of coffee. “And you,
my dear
, had better contact your own lawyer,
because the corporate lawyer will do you no good.” He exited less dramatically
than Vargas had done.

Jane turned to
Marjory.

Marjory shook her
head. “Drama queens,” she huffed.

The blubbering man
nodded at her, his mouth agape.

“You’re the worst
of them, Fitch, I swear. How hard is it to nod your head and agree? We need to
press pause on all corporate decision-making until after the investigation of
the deaths is over and the estate has been settled.” Marjory looked over Jane’s
head at the open library door. “It’s like those men don’t even care that my
husband’s brother and sister-in-law are dead."

Fitch swallowed
and nodded. He looked to the door but stopped, his eyes glued to Jane. “You’re
that Adler girl,” he said.

Jane nodded. He
knew her?

“I managed your dad’s
locations until last year.” The color was slowly returning to Fitch’s cheeks.

“Ah,” Jane said.
He still didn’t look familiar.

“Don’t worry about
calling a lawyer.” Marjory’s voice had gone soft. “Those men are bluffing.”

Fitch nodded.
“Yes. All right. I won’t.”

If he had been
managing burger restaurants for her father, Jane was certain he didn’t have a
lawyer, or the money to call a lawyer. No wonder he had been reduced to a
blubbering pile by the other men in the room.

“Go back to work.
Business as usual for you.”

Fitch nodded.
“Business as usual for building and maintenance.” He exited the library,
leaving Jane and Marjory alone.

“Well…that didn’t
go as I had hoped.” Marjory stood with her hands clasped behind her back,
facing the window. “Thank you for being available.”

There was a
softness to Marjory’s words that caught Jane off guard.

“That’s why I’m
here, ma’am.” It was the truth, as far as it went. Jane was here, right now, to
serve a family in crisis. Or so she kept reminding herself.

“Please clean up
this mess.” Marjory turned and waved her hand to the food that had hardly been
touched.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jane
picked up the plates from the small tables scattered around the room and
balanced them with her empty hand. As she headed back to the kitchen she
wondered what conversation she had stumbled onto. Were the suspicious deaths
murder after all, and was someone in that room responsible? She shivered at the
thought. From what she had heard, Fitch had been invited as a yes-man, to agree
with whatever Marjory proposed. The Waller/Walker man and Vargas were
muckety-mucks in the Burger with the Roly-Poly Bun business. Would either of
them have wanted Bob and Pamela dead?

Would Marjory have
wanted them dead?

Jane stretched
plastic wrap over the untouched tray of meats. She had enough food to feed
herself, Jake, and Marjory for several lunches, unless the cops came and
arrested Marjory, in which case the meat would last even longer.

Jane bit her
bottom lip. Marjory was acting like she was in charge of the family business.
Seizing control of the family business seemed like a good motive, but was it
true?

Jane needed to
find out what role Vargas and Waller/Walker played in the business to
understand what their motives would have been. After stowing all of the food
away in the much fuller side-by-side stainless-steel fridge, Jane trod slowly
back to the library. This wasn’t any of her business, but so long as she was
hearing half conversations through closed doors, it seemed wise to attempt to
understand what was going on. And, in its own way, digging into the suspicious
deaths was sort of like serving a family in crisis. Jane wondered, with a
little smile, if she could get extra credit for finding out who had killed the
Crawfords.